Chapter 33

I have been expressly forbidden from actively spying on any of the people on the list. I’m not allowed to follow anyone, I’m not allowed to go into anyone’s room, and I’m not even allowed to sneak around near their desks, let alone look inside them.

“It’s a miracle Sulfeng didn’t recognize your scent as human back when you snuck into his room,” Khysmet says. “You smell too distinctly different from a Sungian. Anyone who has familiarity with human scent would recognize it immediately.”

I’m pouting extra hard about it because I know he’s absolutely right. If I had known Sungians have such a strong sense of smell, I probably wouldn’t even have snuck around looking into Sulfeng. I’ll have to think of more subtle ways to investigate this time. It might finally be time for me to start playing at dinner. I feel like I could handle it now. Something about regarding myself as the potential future queen has given me a real confidence boost.

Lately when I hear people shit talk me in the great hall in the morning, it just seems sort of inconsequential, like their petty distaste for me is completely beneath my notice. I took a break from playing at lunch while mapping the caves, so it’s been a while since I’ve tried, but honestly I feel like if someone tried to harass me while I play now, I would be able to calmly tell them to fuck off, and then just walk away. I am, after all, the king’s special favorite. Any retribution they try to exact upon me for telling them off would be brought back down on them a hundred fold. There are no consequences to my actions.

When I think about the possibility of looking my more vocal detractors in the eye and telling them to go fuck themselves with a gentle smile on my face, it even starts to sound a little fun.

I'm going to wait a tiny bit longer before starting all that, though, because something more pressing is occupying my thoughts first.

I've finally hit the six month mark. And my family is nowhere to be found.

I've been stressing about it for over a week now. Realistically, I know that it's silly to have thought that they would be able to time their visit perfectly out to the exact day. Who knows what sort of contingencies they might have run into out in the vast deserts and mountains of Veilsung? They're supposed to be making a tour of the whole country – they probably just extended themselves further out than intended. It's not a big deal. They're fine. They have to be fine. But what if they're not?

Khysmet is oddly sweet in response to my anxiety – though I suppose I should stop thinking of it as odd when he's rather consistent about being kind whenever I'm uncomfortable. He stops pushing me so hard to practice with him, and instead offers to show me a thing or two about one of the games we played when Akharos and Yliana were here, one of the lawn games with mallets and balls. He said he wants me to get good at it so that next time Akharos visits, I can help take him down.

"I don't know, Khysmet," I say. "There's just as good of a chance that I'll team up with your brother to kick your ass instead. Are you sure you want to potentially give him an advantage by teaching me how to play better?"

"Absolutely," he reassures me. "I love a good wild card thrown into the mix. Plus, I have no doubt in my ability to win you back."

I giggle. “That’s a lot of confidence with nothing to back it up. I’d love to see you try.”

He grins and raises his brows. "Do you want a demonstration now?"

"Oh absolutely," I say, dying to know what he could possibly do to "win me back" once I've decided I feel like antagonizing him. I lay out the scene.

"Let's say," I say, "that I’ve decided to team up with Akharos because you said something annoyingly smug, like an egregious claim about your ability to win me back perhaps, and I want to punish you for it. Okay, go."

He slowly approaches me, walking closer and closer until he’s well inside my personal space, standing only a few inches away. Then he cups my cheek in his hand, stroking my skin gently with his thumb, and looks deeply into my eyes with a soft and sweet expression. Despite myself, I find that my heart starts to beat just a little faster, and I’m unconsciously leaning into his touch.

"Cat," he says tenderly. "Sweet Cat. My radiant beam of sunlight. Dear, sweet, perfect, beautiful Cat…"

His words and his touch are so soothing, and the tenderness in his gaze feels so real. I'm not sure if this would be enough to make me switch to his side, but it’s certainly enough to make the inside of my ribcage feel tight and sticky. I close my eyes and breathe a tiny contented sigh.

Then, in a move that catches me completely off guard, he yanks the mallet out of my hands and holds it high above his head.

"Hey, what the hell?" I demand, shocked out of my reverie. I reach to grab the end of the mallet that's closer to the ground, but he easily keeps it out of my grasp.

"You'll get this back when you agree to help me again," he says simply.

I snort in disbelief, shocked that he’s actually pulling this childish stunt. I can’t maintain a convincing look of disapproval, though. He looks so proud of himself. It’s cute. I willingly let him play keep-away for a while, jumping up to reach for it and trying to climb him like a tree without any result other than making him laugh at my efforts. In order to earn my mallet back, I have to swear my undying allegiance to him, and also administer a long series of kisses to various parts of his face and neck.

In all honesty, I’m impressed. If it actually came down to it, I think that this would have worked to win me back onto his side, though I wouldn’t have kissed him quite so many times if anyone was watching. Unfortunately for him, though, I'm going to see it coming next time and make sure to keep my equipment well away from his grabby hands.

Though he still insists on practicing regularly, he makes sure to keep it light, and stops whenever I lose concentration or get too quiet. The second I do, he immediately declares that he wants to play another little game, then spends the whole time constantly giving me tips on how to improve, always trying to keep me smiling and at ease. Often his tips amount to nothing more than learning how to cheat and get away with it, which is endlessly funny to me (When I ask if he was cheating at these games when his brother was here, he refuses to comment.). And every night, he insists on staying by my side, so I don't have any time on my own to stew and worry. My anxiety is constant and acute, but he does everything he can to take my mind off my fears.

I never know how to reconcile this version of Khysmet with the one who teases me every second of the day. When he's holding me in his arms, stroking my hair, and making gentle, soothing noises while I try and fail not to cry, it suddenly doesn’t feel like so much of a stretch to think that I could one day return his profession of love.

Fortunately, after two and a half weeks of constant dread, we finally get word that the Warblers have arrived at the city gates and are setting up camp in the same place we did last time. Flooded with relief, I immediately want to go meet them, having missed everyone so much in the last six and a half months.

“That won’t be necessary,” Khysmet says.

“The fuck do you mean it ‘won’t be necessary’!?” I shout with the full force of my unfettered rage.

Khysmet smiles warmly at my vitriolic outburst, completely unperturbed.

“I mean,” he says, “that their first night’s performance will be held at the castle. They’ll all be coming here, Cat. No need to run off into the city just yet.”

I blink, all my anger quashed in a second. “Oh. Um… Sorry.”

He raises one brow. “Sorry? Since when are you apologizing for shouting at me?”

I shrug. “Well for once, it wasn’t warranted.”

He chuckles and pats me on the head. “Fair enough. I much prefer to earn your hatred.”

I hate having to wait an extra day to see everyone, but I’m willing to be patient if it means they all get to come to the castle. I can introduce my family to all my new friends, and vice versa. I ask Khysmet if I can invite Portia and Suzanne to stay in the castle for a night, and he assures me that he will arrange it so there’s a room ready for each of them close to mine. I spend the whole rest of that day, the night, and the next morning abuzz with energy, talking incessantly to anyone who will listen about all the people I want them to meet. I wait close to the front gates all day so that I will know the second someone comes through it.

Eliza is the first to step into the castle, and I wrap her up in the tightest hug I can manage, which she returns readily, asking how I’ve been and insisting I tell her everything at some point later when she doesn’t have to make all the arrangements for the concert.

I repeat this interaction with just about everyone who walks through the door. I know how getting set up is their number one priority, and there will be plenty of time to talk later, but I can’t resist the urge to just say hi for half a minute to the people I have missed so much over the past few months. When I see Portia and Suzanne, though, I just have to harass them into talking to me, at least for a few minutes. I demand they set down what they’re carrying, Eliza’s orders be damned, a request they are more than happy to comply with. Suzanne actually put her load down the second she saw me and ran to hug me, crying and squealing and lifting me slightly off the ground.

“Cat, how have you been?” she asks. “I’ve been so worried ever since we left you behind here. Have people been nice to you? Does the king treat you well? Are you happy here? Tell me everything!”

Portia appears by our side a moment later than Suzanne, having brought what she’s carrying with her rather than dropping it beside the door like Suzanne did.

“Please distill your entire experience over the last six months into approximately five minutes of conversation, since that’s probably about as long as we can get away with talking,” she says with a wide smile that betrays how happy she is to see me despite her less than warm words.

“Okay, um,” I say, trying to think of how to summarize everything. “Well, basically every member of the nobility in the castle hates me, but the staff all really like me, so it’s a bit of a mixed bag on the front of people being nice to me. I have a lot of friends, though, and I’m excited to introduce them to you. The king…”

I pause and try to think of how to distill that entire subject down to five minutes of conversation, then decide to wait until later to get into the details about that. “The king is a sadistic asshole. But he’s also not a bad person. On average, I guess I would say he treats me okay. And yeah, I would say I’m pretty happy here. I’ve gotten to do a lot of interesting things with my time. I’ll tell you all about them later.

“Oh, and Portia,” I say, “I found out you were wrong about snake people having two penises.”

“I know!” Portia laments. “I was so sad when I found out. Have you seen what the Sungian women have going on, though? Totally different erogenous zones – I felt like I was speaking a different language the first time I got in bed with one. I was like, I swear I’m usually better at this!”

Suzanne grins. “So Cat, have you just been sleeping around the castle, or did you actually finally find someone you like?”

“Well,” I say with a wry smile, “I’ve only been sleeping with one guy, but to say I like him would be a bit of a stretch…”

My ear suddenly pricks up at the sound of Khysmet’s voice behind me. I turn to look and find he’s talking to Eliza about something. Suzanne notices my lapse in attention.

“Who’s that, Cat?” she asks.

“Oh, that’s the king,” I say. “Did you want to meet him?”

Portia grins sinisterly. “Oh, I would love to meet the sadistic asshole who only treats you ‘okay’.”

“Portia please,” Suzanne begs, “don’t be too much of a dick to this guy. We’re in his country. He could probably have us beheaded if he wanted. He could at least stop bankrolling our tour here.”

Khysmet notices my eyes on him, and he says one more thing to Eliza before heading very clearly in our direction.

"Don't worry, Suzanne," I try to reassure her, as she is clearly freaking out. "He's not going to behead anyone. I promise."

I'm guessing my words sound a bit hollow, since there is nothing concrete backing them up. I wish I could better impress on her that just being my friend means she has nothing to worry about from Khysmet, but I really don’t have the time to open that can of worms before he’s standing next to us.

“Good afternoon, Cat,” he says. “Who are your friends?”

“This is Suzanne and Portia,” I say, gesturing to each of them in turn. “Guys, this is King Khysmet.”

He nods down at them. “Lovely to meet you, Suzanne. Portia.”

“Nice to meet you, your majesty,” Suzanne says stiffly, bowing deep.

“Likewise,” Portia says without bowing at all.

“So,” Khysmet says conversationally. “Now that you’ve been wandering around the country for a while, what do you think of Veilsung?”

“It’s hot as balls,” Portia says. “People here don’t die of old age, they actually slowly roast to death.”

“It’s beautiful though,” Suzanne breaks in, clearly trying to cover for Portia’s rudeness. “The landscape is amazing. And your people have been very welcoming to us.”

Khysmet grins at Portia’s comment. “Sungian body temperatures run lower than most mammals. We vastly prefer roasting to death over freezing. Sorry to hear the temperatures here have been uncomfortable for you.”

“I forgive you,” Portia says. “Next time try to be the ruler of a more temperate country, though.”

“Perhaps you should just try to have a higher tolerance for heat,” Khysmet suggests.

“Touché.”

He turns to Suzanne. “I’m glad to hear that my people have been welcoming to your troupe. I know we have a tendency to sometimes be cold to outsiders. I had hoped that my publicly endorsing you would allow you to move more freely and even stay in one place longer, should you so choose.”

“Y– Yeah,” Suzanne stammers. “I think it has. We stayed in a few of the port cities for quite a while.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

"You know what, Cat?” Portia says. “I don't know what you were talking about, he doesn't seem like a sadistic asshole to me.”

I grin toothily and look at Khysmet when I respond to her. "Well, you can't always trust first impressions, Portia. Believe me, he absolutely is."

Khysmet stares back at me with mild amusement. "Cat told you I'm a sadistic asshole, did she?" he asks. "What else did she say about me?"

Portia shrugs. "That's about it, really."

Khysmet's smile widens and takes on a sinister edge. "Is that so?"

My grin drops. I don't like the look in his eye. I can tell he's not happy that I haven't told them the full story of our entire sordid affair already. I can also sense he's planning to inflict retribution on me in some way, and I'm not looking forward to what it's going to be.

"We've only had a few minutes to talk so far," I explain. "I haven't had a chance to get into anything else."

"I'm sorry, your majesty," Suzanne cuts in shakily, seriously misunderstanding the source of tension. "Cat tends to exaggerate, and Portia loves being as rude as possible. I'm sure you're not a sadistic asshole."

"No, that much is more or less true," Khysmet admits casually. "To be honest, I'm far more offended by the things she didn't say about me."

He looks me in the eye with a challenging smirk. "I was sure she'd at least mention how I am in bed."

Suzanne's face goes blank, like she's no longer able to process what's happening. Portia's face, on the other hand, lights up like she's just won the lottery.

"No, she completely failed to mention that," Portia says giddily. "Cat, by all means, do tell."

I purse my lips and glare at Khysmet, not particularly happy that he's forcing me to talk about this before I wanted to.

"I wouldn't want to be rude and discuss it right in front of you," I tell him.

"Oh please, I insist," he says with a smug grin. "I'm dying to hear what you have to say on the matter."

His stupid smirk is pissing me off. I decide to see what I can do to wipe it off his face.

I turn to Portia and Suzanne. "He’s absolutely horrible,” I inform them. “Tiny dick. Makes weird noises. Premature ejaculator."

"Oh I’m horrible am I?" Khysmet asks mildly.

I turn back and shoot him my own challenging smirk. "Just dreadful."

"Which time was horrible then, the first or the fiftieth?” he asks. “Because if the sex is so bad, I'm confused why you keep coming back for more."

I shrug and cross my arms. "It was all pity sex. No one else is going to sleep with someone as unfortunate as you, after all.”

"Is that so?” He grins darkly. “I'm impressed with the sheer volume of your charity work. You've put sooo many long, long hours into it. And you carry out your work with such vocal enthusiasm.”

"What can I say? I'm just magnanimous like that. You're welcome."

He taps his finger to his lips in mock pensiveness. "It's funny because I could have sworn you're not that good of an actor, but you put on quite a convincing performance every night.” He leans in closer, oozing smugness out of every pore. “I didn't even realize it was possible to fake getting so wet like that."

I flush dark red immediately.

"That's… I…"

Khysmet stands back up straight and turns back to Suzanne and Portia. "Okay,” he says brightly. “I'm going to leave now before she thinks of a comeback. Suzanne, Portia.” He nods at each of them in turn. “It was lovely to meet you. I look forward to the concert."

He walks away with a bounce in his step, my friends watching him leave with identical shell shocked expressions. I put my head in my hands and groan, pissed at myself for getting thrown off by his stupid comment, all the more so because I'm not even sure why it threw me for a loop like that.

"...Well that was an interesting dynamic," Suzanne comments after a beat.

"I can't believe you're hate-fucking a king, Cat,” Portia says reverently. “You're really moving up in the world."

"It's not hate-fucking," I say with a weary sigh. "I don't know what it is. Incidentally, now is as good a time as any to extend an invitation and say that I'd appreciate it if you guys could stay the night here in the castle so we can all just talk. I’m in need of sage counsel regarding…" I wave my hand in Khysmet's general direction. "…all of that nonsense. You get your own fancy rooms.”

Portia grins toothily. “Hell yeah I want to stay in a fucking castle.”

Rather than responding to my offer, Suzanne cocks her head and looks at me pensively. "How is he in bed, really?" she asks.

I shrug. "Quite good, actually. Calling it the best sex I've ever had is a little more credit than I'm willing to give him, but he certainly knows what he's doing.”

She hums thoughtfully. “Yeah. Of course we’ll stay the night. You obviously need our help.”